


Mesmerizing Nightmare

by cola1320



Series: Carry on My Wayward Daughter [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Lucid Dreaming, Murder Mystery, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Season 3, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cola1320/pseuds/cola1320
Summary: Trekking through the wilds of Colorado, Avery suddenly wakes up in strange place and can't remember how she got there.  Filled with old, familiar people, its hard to tell what's real and what's not.  But the longer she stays, the more danger will come her way.
Series: Carry on My Wayward Daughter [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1073058





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m telling you this case is going to be cold by the time we manage to get there,” I insisted to Dean from the backseat of the Impala. There were demonic signs lighting up all over California and here we were taking our time trekking through the wilds of Colorado. It was less than fifty degrees out, the early spring snows still covered the ground, and Dean was stopping at every diner he saw for burgers and pie. He had about two months left on earth and he was living his best life while Sam and I suffered silently.

“Is not,” came the answer from the driver’s seat.

“Is too,” I leered back. “Its gonna smoke out, find a new victim, or better yet another hunter is gonna exorcise it.” I received no answer back, nor would Dean meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. An exasperated sigh rattled through my nose at his ignorance. I pleaded with Sam when he flashed a quick look over his shoulder. He scrunched his face, wanting to be a pacifist, but I knew I could count on him.

He cleared his throat, measuring his words before going against his older brother. “She’s right, man,” he started. Dean was fast to shoot him a piercing glare. Sam cleared his throat again and continued. “We’ve all been stuck in this car for the last three days.”

“Come on, we’ve been stopping tons,” he said defensively.

“Yeah, for you to get another burger or pie. I can’t sleep in here again or I’m gonna wake up a popsicle! I don’t have all that manly ruggedness to keep me warm at night.” And I wasn’t exaggerating. These lonely backroad highways had few diners and even fewer motels spaced between them. We had passed up motels the last two nights because Dean was sure we could get a few more hours of driving in. I’d been forced to huddle in the backseat, my jacket the only thing to warm me when the night temperatures dropped below freezing.

“Manly ruggedness?” Dean teased, finally catching my eye with a quirked eyebrow. The corners of Sam’s mouth tugged upwards in a silent chuckle as I shrugged unapologetically.

“Let’s at least pull into the next motel,” Sam offered.

“But-” his brother started to protest.

I hollered over him, “If you say there’s still hours of daylight left, I’m going to punch you.” Deep laughter filled the car as I rolled my eyes at Dean in good humor. He pretended to be appalled, claiming those weren’t the words about to leave his mouth. I joined in with Sam’s laughter as he pouted in the front seat.

Dean did concede after we finished our play fight, finally pulling into a lodge-style motel by late afternoon. It was nicer than our normal digs with two full suites and a joint living area. Sam pushed his way through the door first, sprinting while calling dibs on the queen bed. I was too relieved to have a mattress to myself to care and Dean didn’t have a reason to tell him no.

I collapsed on my full bed, sinking into the thick comforter that smelled vaguely of pine needles. Lazily rolling my head to the side, I looked at Dean as he sat down to take his worn boots off. His head down, he couldn’t see me watching his fingers as he deftly undid the laces. He must have felt my gaze because he ever so slightly glanced up through thick lashes. I hurriedly adverted my eyes, glad the comforter was hiding the blush on my cheeks. The distinctive sound of his quiet chuckle filled our shared room until Sam’s voice broke through.

“Hey, guys, its snowing!” he excitedly called from the living room. I pushed up on my forearms to see Dean gently jerk his chin toward his brother. Sam was indeed right, I saw, as pinpricks of white dust floated around the Impala. The dusting turned into a several inches of heavy snowfall at dusk and we were all grateful to be indoors and off the roads.

Dean was content to sit in front of the tv, mindlessly watching Dr. Sexy M.D. The younger Winchester and I had opted for snuggling on the couch with our respective books. Eventually I grew tired of even that and went to stuff my book into my bag. As I was coming back to sit beside my reading buddy, I happened to zero in on his hair. It was the longest I had seen it, easily brushing his collar and covering his ears.

I leaned on the back of the couch to whisper in his ear, “You need a haircut.”

He turned towards me, a little startled at my proximity when our noses brushed. “You always say that,” he said, pulling back to look me in the face.

“She’s right,” his brother chimed in, never looking away from the actors on the screen.

“Popular opinion today,” I grinned sweetly, batting my lashes when he didn’t immediately consent.

“Not too short, okay?” he finally conceded, his mouth screwing up in concern. I happily promised, scrambling to grab our nice scissors and comb.

He sat himself down, back facing the tv so I could absentmindedly watch and work. I playfully ran my fingers through his long, silken locks in an attempt to calm him before I started cutting. It had something to do with Dean traumatizing him and buzzing it all when they were kids. He still tensed up every ten minutes and I’d have to knead his neck or readjust his head to snap him out of it.

Despite that, I managed to trim and straighten the edges of his hair without incidence. When I was done, he practically shot out of the chair and dove back to the safety of the couch.  
I snorted comically as I walked over to Dean. “Your turn,” I told him, stepping in front of the screen so he couldn’t ignore me. He groaned loudly, letting me know his displeasure as I pulled on his sleeve, yet stood to get his clippers.

He sat as close to the tv as I’d let him, grumbling whenever I blocked his view. He was especially bad about grasping my hips to physically move me to the side. Despite his appearance, Dean cared more about his hair than his younger brother. It needed to be this short on his neck but not that short up top; and heaven forbid his front fringe not be cut straight and styled appropriately. Constantly having to double check my work, my hands stayed threaded through his blonde locks.

After delicately snipping another centimeter off his bangs, I did one more run through with my fingers. As I smoothed each strand into place, I noticed that his eyelids had dropped closed and he was gently leaning into the pressure. “You’re missing your show,” I said softly, beginning to form his typical spiked hairstyle. He gave a small uninterested noise, like he was barely conscious. “She’s about to tell him that she loves him,” I prodded again, a gentle smile on my features.

“Rerun,” was the mumbled response I heard. I laughed quietly, removing my hands from his finished hair. One of his quickly trapped mine against his head, holding it in place against his ear. “Feels good,” he whispered with an unfocused, half-lidded gaze.

“I can tell,” I giggled, peering into his sleepy apple green eyes. “Time for bed, okay?” I extracted my hand from underneath his, grabbing hold of his flannel overshirt to pull him from the chair.

This time he didn’t resist, leaning heavily against me as I pulled him out of the living room. I hollered a goodnight to Sam who was too engrossed in his book to know the time and grunted back at me.

A real bed did wonders for my body and I woke the next morning feeling refreshed like I hadn’t in weeks. The sun was up as I gingerly walked to the window, my companions sound asleep. The snow from last night covered the ground in a thick white blanket undisturbed by the world. It was a good thing we hadn’t been caught driving in it too. Baby didn’t handle ice well and she’d probably stay parked today for no reason other than to keep her safe.

I decided to brave the snow to make a food run, especially if we were going to stay another day. Beer, pie, something healthy for Sam, and food for Dean and I were all on my list as I slipped on my decorative combat boots and insulated leather jacket. We had passed a mini mart not far down the road that was within walking distance. A brisk wind swirled my hair around my face as I stepped outside, but I could feel the temperature already rising. I trudged on, my footsteps marking a path into the fresh snow behind me.

I personally abhorred ice and anything cold, but Colorado made up for it with dry, crisp air and a refreshing scenery. Tall pines jutted out of the snowbanks, their branches heavy with snowflakes and off in the distance, a mountaintop rose above the tree line, stretching for the heavens. The morning sun peeked through the clouds, casting the mountain’s shadow until it reached the side of the highway. For fifteen minutes, I was engrossed in the nature around me instead of focusing on the cold seeping into my bones.

My destination was a moderate sized convenience store with two ancient gas pumps standing guard out front. Stomping off my boots, I hurried inside to begin scavenging for food in the heated building. Apparently, I was the only person with enough courage to venture outdoors, the store clerk there to keep me company. It was hard to ignore the feeling of his eyes nervously watching me, but I wasn’t here to shoplift today. Quickly scanning the aisles, I grabbed salad, premade hot dogs, some apples, a six pack of beer, and the only pie I could find which happened to be pumpkin. I knew I’d never hear the end of it, but I’d get more flak from Dean if I didn’t bring pie at all.

My arms burdened with the goods, I laid them out on the counter before the employee. He was a simple faced man, around my age, thin, with an intricate tribal tattoo winding across his knuckles. I commented on it which led to awkward small talk as he scanned the items. I dug in my pocket for the appropriate amount of cash, handing it to him when he said the total. Our fingertips accidentally brushed in the exchange, a small volt of static electricity passing through my arm.

Apologizing profusely, I thanked him as I turned to walk out the door. Not watching where I was going, a burly mountain man clipped my shoulder as he passed by me. The force spun me to the side slightly, nearly knocking my fresh bagged groceries from my arms. He gave no apology, not even noticing the insult, and continued to the beer freezer. I chose to shrug it off, not wanting to stay in the cold weather longer than I needed to.

I burrowed deeper into my jacket, hands stuffed into the lined pockets as I continued down the road again. The rising sun glinted off the white horizon, sparkling like diamonds across the mountainous landscape. I squinted against the sight to no avail; my vision became encased by blinding white light. So bright, it seemed like I was being surrounded by the cold, white nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

I groaned heavily, rolling onto my stomach, searching for anything in the darkness. Bleary eyes slowly focused on a bedside clock that told me it was the wee hours of the morning. What a vivid dream, I thought as I turned once more, hoping to sleep a few more hours. I snuggled into the thick comforter to fight off the cold, sighing deeply until my fingers brushed bare flesh.

My body froze in fear at the presence of the sleeping person next to me. I quietly scrambled to the edge of the bed, reaching for my weapon; but the quilt had other ideas. My tossing had tangled it around my legs and it now acted as a deadweight. I let out a screech as it dragged me to the floor in a mess of limbs and fabric. The more I struggled to free myself, the more it tried to suffocate me. My element of surprise gone, the goal was to escape in time for an effective counterattack.

“What in the world have you done?” an amused voice asked from above, heavy footsteps marking their progress across the floor. Just when I thought I found an opening to free myself, the voice ripped away the blanket.

I raised my arms in self-defense but stopped short at the familiar face gazing down at me. “Dean?” I muttered in disbelief.

The tension released from my body at the sight, but I couldn’t convince myself to drop my guard. Of course, it was Dean; but somehow, he seemed different. His eyes were still the color of emeralds, hair dirty blonde albeit sleep-tossed, and bare chest just as muscular. Maybe that’s where the subtle difference lay. Scars no longer covered his body from hunts and spells, nor was his anti-possession tattoo inked across his chest. Something I couldn’t place my finger on was deeply wrong.

He grinned gently, hand extended to me. “You were expecting someone else?” His tone was teasing, but the joke was lost on me.

I eyed him suspiciously, too confused to trust him. “I was expecting no one! Why were we in bed together?” I demanded an answer as I pushed myself to my feet. If he had tried any funny busy while we were drunk, I was going to rip his throat out. And if he had, where had Sam been to stop us?

Dean titled his head, now as confused as me. “Well, I tend to get an earful when I fall asleep on the couch.”

I threw my hands in the air, about to ask him what the hell that had to do with anything. He raised his to grab my wrists before I could flail and my eyes zeroed in on a silver, metal band wrapped around his left ring finger. “Wh- what is that?” I stuttered instead, pulling his calloused hand toward me for a better look. It wasn’t Mary’s ring that typically resided on his right hand. This ring was too new with far less scratches, a faint brushed texture encircling it.

“My wedding band?” His words buzzed in my ears to the point I was sure I had misheard him. Dean wasn’t married; hell would freeze over before he could make that kind of commitment. Even as I tried to convince myself, I felt an unbearably heavy weight on my own finger. My head seemed to turn in slow motion as I internally screamed at myself not to look.

I dropped his hand to stare at the silver diamond ring and matching band constricting my finger. My knees gave out beneath me and I crumpled to the bed, Dean hovering protectively to catch me. “Married? You- you’re- I- me- We’re married?” Panicky words tumbled out my mouth as I hyperventilated. What kind of Friends level shit was this, I thought, tearing my hands through my hair.

“For about three years now,” he answered slowly as if I shouldn’t need to ask. I doubled over to stick my head between my legs, not enjoying how the walls of the room seemed to close in as my brain tried comprehending what was happening. Dean, however, took the opportunity to methodically run his hands over my scalp as he sank onto the bed beside me.

“What are you doing?” I snapped in an exasperated tone, shoving his hands off. There were larger things at stake than massaging my head.

“Making sure you didn’t smack your head when you fell off the bed,” he said, completely serious as he met my eye.

“I didn’t hit my head!” I shouted harshly, slapping his persistent hands once more.

He made a low growl in his throat when I did but didn’t yell back as I expected. “Then why are you acting so strange?” he questioned, trying to prove his point.

How was I supposed to answer that? I was beyond confused, had no clue where I was, or if this was even the real Dean. And he just expected me to pour my soul out to him? “I’m not acting strange.” I forced the false words through tight lips.

He appraised me carefully, head titled to the side as he watched me. It was a gaze I recognized well; one I had been on the receiving end of many times. It nearly tricked me into believing it was my Dean sitting in front of me. I held his gaze firmly, nonetheless, determined not to give anything away.

After a moment, he simply shrugged, letting it roll off his back. “If you say so, baby. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.” He obviously didn’t believe me, but I couldn’t dwell on it long. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead which sent me reeling. As he stood, he said, “Well, I’m gonna hop in the shower. And you’re welcome to join me.”

I made the mistake of looking up and caught him shooting me a sexy wink over his shoulder. “It’s a bit early for a shower, don’t you think?” I barely managed to squeak out, admiring the rigid planes of his bare back as he trekked to the in-suite bathroom.

“Some of us actually have to work today,” he sang back in a teasing voice. I preoccupied myself with the décor of the bedroom when he started to relieve himself of his pants and boxers. It was quant with a distinct farmhouse flair that seemed like something I would pick for my own home. Though it only added to my delirium and the feeling that I had been in this room before.

“Why don’t I have to go in, again?” I asked, curiosity beginning to get the better of me.

Dean’s voice called out to me over the sound of the shower. “You never work on Sundays, baby. Not unless someone has a foal ready to drop or something like that.”

“O- oh, right,” I called back, more confused than I was before. Maybe my answers lay elsewhere, other than the room I was in. I thought better of stepping outside when I noticed I was wearing nothing but underwear and an oversized Metallica t-shirt that clearly didn’t belong to me.

After scavenging for jeans, a bra, and t-shirt, I tentatively turned the doorknob to the outside world. The sight that met me was the absolute last thing I expected. Nostalgia threatened to bring me to my knees, and I had to catch myself on the doorframe, hand covering my mouth.

I was home.

The room behind me was my parent’s bedroom, on the opposite side of the stair well from three identical doors that had housed my brothers and me. From the top of the stairs, I could just see the worn wood flooring leading into the living room. I couldn’t convince myself to take another step, afraid the sight would disappear around me into a cloud of ash.

Instead, I leaned my forehead against the doorframe, closing my eyes as I breathed in deeply. It was the sweet smell of my childhood home, a mixture of old oak, soil, and leather. It spoke of the life well lived here and the many generations there had been to work the land we were given. My emotions bubbled out in a low moan as I dared to run my hand along the adjacent wall. My fingertips found all the rough imperfections in the old paint, tracing them until I was stopped by a sharp edge.

I peeked at where my hand had stopped, finding a picture frame I didn’t recognize. Curiosity overcame my fear as I shuffled forward. Nestled on the wall was a picture of Dean and I, dressed in purple Kansas State colors, standing outside a football stadium. I gently pulled it from the nail suspending it, just to make sure I was seeing things right. There was no mistaking who the two people were in the photo or the pure expression of joy on our faces. He was holding me tightly, hand at my waist, as I leaned against his chest. We looked so happy; and in love.

I quickly replaced it, trying not to dwell on that last thought. Dozens of other photos caught my attention before I had the common sense to turn away. Littered around the house was our life story, replacing old family photos and filling the missing gaps in my mind. First dates, family events, engagements, graduations, weddings, and everything in between covered the walls.

I walked the house twice over, finally collapsing on the couch to collect my thoughts. I had a firmer grasp on who I was here, and who Dean was to me; but there was so much more the pictures couldn’t tell me. The walls said I was a new veterinarian who had met the love of my life in college, married him shortly afterwards, and moved home to start our careers. It was a wonderful life, better than even I could imagine; but was it real? That one small thought continued to nag in the back of my mind.

“Whatcha doing down here?” Dean asked casually as he walked by. I jumped, making a startled noise as his voice brought me back to reality. His small chuckle lingered as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Just thinking,” I said as I moved off the couch to follow him. The kitchen was mostly the same as I remembered, though we had added new paint and cabinets. Dean had his back to me, dressed in old jeans with oil stains, a dark t-shirt, and plaid overshirt. Good to see some things never change.

“About?” he questioned, pouring himself a thermos of coffee before turning to face me. I almost answered, instantly pursing my lips when I realized my mistake. My instincts were telling me to be cautious, flashing yellow hazard lights at the prying question.

I hastily lied, faking normalcy. “How much I don’t wantcha to go to work.” I added a small smile as I spoke, doing my best impression of a little housewife.

He pretended not to notice my clear hesitation, instead taking a sip of coffee. “You know I wish I didn’t have to,” he said, reaching to pull my body flush against him. His touch was gentle as he wrapped strong arms around me; but my back was tense, nerves strung tight. He placed a small kiss on top of my head, lingering slightly before moving to finish getting ready.

“How long’ll you be gone?” I trailed after him as he paced the lower level of the house. Anxiety of being left alone in a strange place steadily grabbed hold of me; to the point where I was hesitant to let this Dean out of my sight.

“Just a couple of hours. I’ve got some important parts that are supposed to arrive today.” He dug through the fridge as he spoke, giving me time to spot a magnet that had Winchester’s Auto Garage scrawled in old school lettering. I couldn’t help but smile like an idiot at the thought of his dream come true. My Dean would have enjoyed an apple pie life like this, happily covered in oil and grease, working with his hands. I hid my strange smile as he popped upright with a container of leftovers in his hand. “Gotta get them all installed. And if there’s time, I gotta take a look at that old Ferris Bueller Ferrari the guys are all too afraid to touch.”

“And what about me?” I pouted as he kneeled to lace up his pair of work boots that had been sitting by the front door.

I received an eyeroll with my answer. “You’ll be fine,” he assured me. When I gave him a skeptical look, he said, “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Well…” I trailed off, silently counting things on my fingers as he shrugged into his faded leather jacket. Funny, I thought John’s jacket had a different lining on the inside instead of fabric; and was a lighter shade of brown.

“Shut up,” he huffed, aggressively grabbing hold of me. Before I could think to push him off, his lips crashed down on mine. My eyes shot open as he deepened the kiss, my knees going weak when his hand caught the back of my head. But as soon as the kiss had started, it ended just as abruptly.

I sucked in air rapidly, pushing against his chest to give me room to breathe. Dean simply stood there, giving me a wicked smile that said he knew exactly what he had done. Colorful words coursed through my mind, but I found my mouth unwilling to cooperate.

“I’ll be home in time for dinner at your parents’ house.” He gave me a quick wink before closing the door, leaving me rooted in place. A moment later, a familiar engine roared to life, throwing dirt as it sped down the driveway.

I wanted to snort in disgust at the taste of him clinging to my lips, but his words captured my attention. He had said dinner with my parents. If the old house still stood and Dean wasn’t a hunter then maybe it was possible that my family lived as well. That joyous thought also filled me with a deep sense of dread. I needed to find the way out of this place.

Grabbing a pair of boots, I headed out the front door in the direction of the barn. I pulled the heavy doors open, the scent of horseflesh and old leather rushing over me. Three horses curiously peaked their heads out of the stalls to get a glimpse of the food-bringer. Two of them I didn’t recognize, though they happily nickered as I walked by. But the third was Dan’s old buckskin gelding that I had learned to ride on when I was a kid.

Saddling him quickly, I burst out the side of the barn, galloping towards the rear fields. I was determined to ride as far as I possibly could, waiting for someone or something to stop me. That would be my ticket back to the real world. I just had to make it that far.

Hours later, the horse and I were both sweating profusely. The hot sun had slowed us down to barely more than a trot and I hadn’t thought to bring water with us. We had made it across multiple neighbors’ property without incidence. Now I had us combing every acre of the three hundred my family owned.

Nothing seemed out of place as we trudged on. Every field, path, and dilapidated building were in their exact location. Wildlife filled the woods, chattering pleasantly against my whirlwind thoughts. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what I was seeing with my eyes. The word wrong flashed everywhere I looked, yet the world was peaceful. And completely perfect. Fatigued physically and mentally, I urged the gelding back in the direction of the house. Perhaps my answers didn’t lie out here.

After taking care of the horse, I dragged myself up the porch steps and upstairs for a much-needed shower. Utterly tired of the constant buzzing in my head, I attempted to drown it out with music. I hummed lightly as I rinsed the grime down the drain.

“It starts in my toes, makes me crinkle my nose… Wherever it goes, I always-”

“You do know what that song’s about, right?” The unexpected voice immediately stopped my singing with a startled gasp.

I ripped the shower curtain open, thinking I was the only person home. A curious Dean, leaning against the bathroom counter, perked his eyebrows as the shower curtain hugged me. “You scared the hell out of me!” I fumed, pushing my wet hair off my forehead.

“Sorry,” he said in an unapologetic voice, “I thought you heard me come in.” He steadily made his way toward me as he talked.

“Obviously not,” I quipped, pulling the curtain with me as I stepped back. He made a small noise in his throat as he stood over me, trying to use his height as an advantage. “What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing a firmer hold on the shower curtain.

His eyes trailed up the shape of my body from toe to head. “Give me a peak?” he asked in a sultry voice, his gaze lingering on my face.

“In your dreams,” I told him with an irritated noise, pushing him backwards and pulling the curtain shut in one fluid motion. I turned my back to him as well, in case he didn’t take no for an answer.

He must have thought better of it, instead mumbling under his breath, “Such a tease.”


	3. Chapter 3

I was apprehensive as Dean held the door to the Impala open for me. Whatever had me trapped here knew family was a weakness I couldn’t easily withstand. It could be a trap to lull me into complacency, so it could strike when I was least prepared. Powerless against it, I found myself climbing in. A thousand unfavorable scenarios tumbled through my brain as I absently picked at my fingernails. I nearly leapt through the roof when Dean gently grabbed my hand to stop the tick.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly, lifting my hand to his lips. “It’s never as bad as you imagine.” He held our hands together and rested them on my thigh, making me cease fidgeting.

“I’m not nervous,” I lied, lightly running my fingers over his calloused hand. It was nearly twice the size of mine, something that always seemed to amuse him and Sam. His skin felt like supple leather, rough but not coarse; able to soothe when needed. The only thing missing was the scars on his palm from multiple knife cuts. He felt real; like the man I had spent every waking moment with for over a year.

My pondering made the car ride to the other side of town seem short. It wasn’t long before we pulled into a quaint house overlooking a pond with a small garden off the side. It emanated mother’s touch as I stepped outside, but I caught a glimpse of an overrun shed that screamed my father. Two unfamiliar trucks were parked beside us, the Impala sticking out like a sore thumb. A grievous thought flitted by as Dean knocked on the front door. What if my family didn’t approve of him? Was I about to play defense for someone I didn’t know?

But you do know him, whispered my heart as I cast an anxious glance his way. He stood tall, calm and collected with no hint of fear on his handsome features. He flashed me a wink with a smile when he noticed me staring. All other thoughts disappeared as someone opened the door.

My father welcomed us in, heartily shaking Dean’s hand before crushing me into a quick hug. It felt like all the air had leaked out of my lungs as I shakily asked where my mother was. A finger pointed us down the foyer, where she stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Leaden feet allowed Dean to beat me there. My mother gave him a kiss on the cheek, calling him her favorite son-in-law. She shooed him into the dining room with promises of beer and whiskey when he gave her a cheeky response. I crashed into her, throwing my arms around her as she turned around.

“Oh, honey, whatever’s the matter?” she asked, a little startled, hugging me back.

Gently rubbing my back made it difficult to keep the tears at bay. “Nothing,” I assured her, emotion distorting my voice. “Just feel like I haven’t seen you in a long time.” I clung to her desperately, not wanting to let go.

“We just saw each other last week,” she said, pulling away despite my attempts to resist. She lovingly combed my hair away from my face, peering into it. She was always able to read me like a book and I was unable to keep things from her. “Is everything okay? Did you and Dean get into a fight?”

I laughed at her good intentions, nosey as ever. “No, Momma. I really did just miss you. Need help with anything?” I peeked around her shoulder into the kitchen where mouth-watering scents wafted by.

“Not tonight,” she told me, lightly smacking my butt with her towel as I was redirected.

I only managed to take a few steps before someone slammed into me, catching me in a choke hold. Choice words stuck in my throat. “D-dan?” I stuttered, straining to look up at my older brother from my compromised position.

“Hey, baby sister,” he replied, smiling happily down on me. Excited as I was to see him, I all too well recognized the look on his face. “Look who I caught,” he cawed, parading me into the living room like a prize turkey.

“Want me to kick his ass, baby?” Dean asked, bending at the waist to get on my level. The cheeky grin suggested it wasn’t a real offer, but his eyes said he would come to bat for me if I asked.

I was about to tell them both I could take care of myself when my legs were swept out from underneath me. “What was that?” my other brother, Jacob, teased, my legs firmly tucked in his grasp.

“You two put me down this instant!” I fussed vehemently, struggling against their iron grips. I had fought monsters who were stronger than this. As I fumed, Dean slowly stood, a scheming grin forming under his bright eyes.

Dan recognized the dangerous look first. “Be a man for your wife,” he egged, tightening his hold on me.

“Bring it, Winchester,” Jacob echoed, shaking me as he bounced on his toes.

Dean began to roll up his sleeves. “Dog pile?” he said, not bothering to look up.

“Don’t even think about it,” I pleaded, glancing between the three men who were now having a stare off.

Jacob flinched first, a signal Dean had been waiting for. He dove at my brothers, limbs outstretched as he knocked all of us to the ground. The three of them cackled violently, laid out on top of me. My head was stuck in an armpit, legs tangled around Jacob, and someone was laid across my back, preventing me from breathing. And no one seemed to be moving as their laughter reached a fever pitch.  
A high-pitched, feminine voice I didn’t recognize hollered for Dan to cease what he was doing and let me up off the floor. Air rushed into my lungs as my brothers clumsily extracted themselves from our pile, one accidentally kicking me in the head. I gave an irritated growl; we were grown adults and yet this seemed to happen on the regular.

Free to move, I rolled over to find myself nose to nose with Dean. He was leaned over me, body supported on four limbs while I propped up on my elbows. His face was flushed from laughing, green eyes crinkled at the corners. My heart swelled at how perfectly he seemed to fit in with my family. Absolutely content, I was tempted to reach out and touch his face.

“Sorry,” he breathed, smiling gently at me.

“Are not,” I quipped, pretending to scowl. His chuckle told me he didn’t take my words too seriously.

“Get a room!” Jacob howled at us, sending the rest of my family into peals of laughter.

I blushed deeply, no longer able to hold Dean’s gaze. I felt him press a quick kiss to my cheek before standing upright. Hauling me to my feet, I fell easily into his chest like it was a well-rehearsed move. The lights in the room highlighted the freckles that ran across his cheeks as I leaned into him. His fingers pushed a few stray strands of hair off my face, drawing me in deeper.

“Dinner’s ready!” My mother’s call to supper was the right distraction, breaking Dean’s spell over me. I patted his chest gently to put distance between us as I turned away. I felt him lurch forward to catch up with me, lacing his fingers into mine. I shot him a raised eyebrow, curious about his motive. He avoided my gaze, pretending to study the ceiling. But I caught a quick wink when our eyes met for a moment.

As I sat down to the table, I realized I didn’t recognize two of the people in attendance. Dan helped an extremely pregnant, petite, rodeo queen into her chair, seating himself next to her. A comely girl with red pigtails and freckles pulled out the chair across from Jacob, keeping her eyes cast downward.

Throughout dinner we talked, laughed, and teased like the family we were before that fateful night. Dan was in line to take over as sheriff once the current one retired. He had married his rodeo queen a few years before Dean and I; now they were expecting their first child. Jacob was steadily working his way up the chain at the plant in the next town over, where he had met his fiancé. My brothers had settled down with local girls and I was over the moon for them. We deserved to grow up and grow old together like this. With each glass of wine and familial conversation, I slipped further into this reality, truly wondering if my other life was the dream.

I could have stayed all night, but Dean dragged my tipsy butt home when my siblings decided to leave. Giggly from the wine, I tripped up our porch steps. I fumbled with the keys to the front door until I dropped them, which sent me into a fit of laughter. He rolled his eyes at me as he did what I couldn’t. Once inside, I clumsily slipped off my shoes while he reclined on the couch.

“Are you alright?” he asked, watching me curiously after I nearly pitched over.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I retorted, moving to sit beside him. As I came around the corner of the couch, my hip caught on the arm. I squeaked, smacking my calf on the coffee table as I bounced off the couch. Completely unstable on my feet, I fell right into Dean’s lap. Surprised emerald eyes matched my own as I straddled his lap. A tense breath passed between us until we burst into simultaneous laughter.

Exhausted from a long day and alcohol, I leaned my head on his shoulder as our fit subsided. He rested against me, lightly strumming my back. “Tell me how we met,” I asked softly after a few moments, all barriers gone.

“Why?” He contorted his head, trying to see my expression.

I only buried my face further in the curve of his neck. “Dan and Jacob were talking about it tonight and I just…” I trailed off, refusing to look at him.

I felt his chest vibrate against me as he chuckled at my shyness. When he drew in a deep breath, I was afraid he wouldn’t oblige my silly request. It was a nagging question in the back of my mind the wine had called front and center.

His arms wrapped around me to hold me tightly as he talked in a light voice. “You’d passed your first test of vet school and decided to celebrate with friends in Topeka. Cause let’s be honest, the nightlife in Manhattan is pitiful. Kinda like Lawrence, which is why I was in Topeka. I was hustling a little pool and this gaggle of girls just bursts into the bar. Y’all were loud and noisy, without a care in the world. At the back of the pack was this short brunette with striking blue eyes. And she was beautiful.”

“It was me,” I said cheerfully, glancing up at him.

He didn’t answer me, nuzzling my face instead before continuing. “You walked right up to me and said, ‘You’re so devilishly handsome that I just want you to take me right here and now.’”

“What?” I screeched, shooting upright. His face was the vision of serious; until the corner of his mouth twitched. “Filthy liar,” I huffed, leaning back to cross my arms over my chest.

He laughed as he talked, clearly enjoying his practical joke. “Yeah, but worth the look on your face.” I pursed my lips, moving to get off his lap. I needed answers, not to be made fun of. “Wait, wait,” he conceded, stopping me with firm hands.

“Tell it right,” I demanded, smacking his chest as I laid back down.

“Alright,” he started again. “You didn’t say that. Didn’t even notice me; not like I noticed you anyways. But I knew one of the girls in your pack and she introduced us. It took a couple of tries, but you finally let me buy you a drink. Treated you to a round of pool. And once we got to talking, we never stopped. Took you on a real date about a week later and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”  
He smiled fondly at the warm memory as I replayed his words in my mind. It sounded perfect; surely there was some discrepancy I hadn’t heard. My silent pondering drew Dean’s attention. “Wanna tell me what’s going on with you?” he asked, grabbing my chin between his finger and thumb. I gave him pitiful eyes, but he wasn’t ready to let this go.

“Ever have a dream that seems so real you mistake it for reality?” I dropped my gaze, feeling silly for what I was saying. “Well, I had a crazy surreal dream last night. But then I woke up and now this feels real too.” I gestured around the room, not sure if he understood. “I’m just a little confused, I guess,” I confessed, letting my fingers trail across his chest. Why couldn’t this be real?

He was quiet for a moment, head titled like he was studying me. Gently, he released my chin, sliding his hand along my jaw. “Were you happy?” he finally asked, stroking my cheek.

“Yes,” I said in a knee-jerk like response. We both recognized the answer came too fast to be real. Was I happy with that life? Forever on the road, risking life and limb, with no place to call home or family. I’d gained new friends and family, saved countless people, and had more adventures than I’d ever thought possible. Did what I’d gained outweigh everything I had lost? Did that equate to happiness? “No?” I questioned out loud, beginning to doubt myself.

“Are you happy here?” His gaze burrowed holes in me, like his question did to my heart.

“Yes,” I said, tears beginning to prick my eyes. I placed my hand on Dean’s, trying to steady myself. “But it’s not that simple,” I rapidly followed up with.

He sensed my distress, resting our foreheads together. “Why can’t it be?” he reasoned. “Your happiness is what matters most; to me.” I sorrowfully shook my head against his, ours noses rubbing. Why couldn’t he be real? “Stay here with me,” he pleaded, “with someone who loves you.”

My eyes shot open, a single tear slipping down my face. “Y-you love me?” I stuttered.

“From the moment I first saw you,” he assured me, both hands grasping either side of my face.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” My words were lost as he pulled me towards him. His lips crashed down on mine and this time I didn’t shy away. I laced my arms around his neck as the faint taste of whiskey filled my mouth. Hands clasped under my butt, Dean stood and carried me up the stairs to our bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Being woken up by someone poking your face was exactly as fun as it sounded. I groggily rolled over, snuggling closer to Dean. “Your daughter’s awake.”

He willingly threw an arm over me to draw me in. “Your daughter?” he questioned without opening his eyes.

“Before sunrise she’s your daughter,” I quipped, giggling when he squinted one skeptical eye. I placed a quick kiss to his lips as our three-year-old pounced on him.

“Wake up,” she grumpily insisted, smooshing his face to get her point across.

“My Aurora, always up before the sun,” he said, allowing her to contort his face. “Remind me why we named her that again?” he asked, looking over at me.

I pulled her into my lap when she started bouncing on his chest. “Because she’s the light of our life,” I said, rubbing our faces together, “and we never wanted to sleep in on Saturdays again. Isn’t that right, Rory?”

“Yep!” she laughed, not having a clue what we were talking about. “Time for breakfast,” she yelled, climbing off the bed.

“Pancakes?” I asked Dean as I watched her run out the door and down the stairs.

“Sounds good,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed to make his way to our bathroom. I smacked him as he walked by, a sly grin on my face. “Better watch yourself, Winchester,” he warned over his shoulder.

“Make me,” I teased, leaning on the bathroom door frame, ready to take my punishment.

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. “I know you didn’t sleep well last night,” he said, instead preparing to shower.

“I had that dream again,” I confessed, looking at my reflection in the mirror, steam starting to gather at the corners. I shivered despite the heat in the room.

“The one where you’re in the cave?” I didn’t have to confirm it for him; it was the only recurring dream I’d had over the years. “Well, no wonder you stole all the covers last night.”

I rubbed my arms, fighting off a chill. “I can’t help it. It just makes me feel so cold. Like I’m actually freezing to death.”

“You know it’s just stress induced, baby,” he assured me. I snorted at the simplicity. Of course, I was stressed; I had a toddler and career to keep up with and not a lot of time for yoga.

“I’m pretty sure I can hear Rory destroying the kitchen,” I told him, excusing myself from the conversation. Talking about it only ever seemed to unnerve me more.

“You’re a great mom,” he hollered after me, sending a blush to my cheeks. He always knew when I needed a well-placed compliment. It only took a few words from him to put me back at ease.

“What are we gonna do today, Rory?” I asked after sending Dean off to work and cleaning up our pancake mess. She was about to answer when a knock on the front door interrupted her. Strange, I wasn’t expecting anyone today. Mary and John weren’t supposed to come down until next weekend. “Coming,” I shouted, jogging to the foyer.

A large form paced the deck through the frosted glass as I moved to open the door. Wearing jeans and a work jacket, stood the younger Winchester brother. “Sam?” I said, catching him off guard. He started, turning towards me with a wild look in his eye. Something seemed off about him, his mouth working wordlessly. “We weren’t expecting you. Is everything alright? Is something wrong with Jess and the baby?” I asked, concern starting to grip me. Jess hadn’t had the easiest pregnancy and we were all anxious to see the baby safely delivered.

He shut his mouth, face faltering for a moment. “Y-yeah. Everything’s fine. Can- can I come in?” He gestured behind me to the house.

I welcomed him in, taking his coat. He was jittery, jumping every time we accidentally bumped into each other. I turned to take him into the kitchen when Rory raced by. “Uncle Sammy!” she squealed, attaching herself to his leg.

His eyes swelled, nervously glancing between us. Surely, he saw the same things I did; Dean’s bright green eyes above freckled cheeks and dirty blonde hair. I joked I had carried her for nine months and only given her my thick curls, but Dean always assured me there was more. I never argued; I preferred she take after him.

“Rory, he just walked in the door,” I lightly scolded her, trying to extract her.

She was having none of it, fistfuls of his jeans in her tiny hands. “No, mommy,” she told me firmly.

“Oh?” I said, a dangerous tone in my voice, hands on my hips. She buried her face, thinking she wouldn’t get in trouble if she couldn’t see me.

Sam intervened right as I was about to smack her bottom. “It’s fine,” he promised me, gathering her in his arms. I pursed my lips, noticing the hesitation he had when settling her on his hip. Happy as a clam, she clung to his neck, peppering him with kisses.

“Time for the adults to talk,” I told her after he set her down. “Take Zeppelin into the living room with you.” Hearing his name, our Great Pyrenees ambled down the stairs. I shook my head as he pushed between Sam and me, following Rory. “Who knew he herded toddlers as well as sheep,” I jested.

Sam didn’t chuckle like he normally did, simply trailing behind me. I offered him something to drink, though he politely declined. I decided to make us cups of hot tea anyways. I could feel his eyes on my back as I moved around the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” I finally asked, leaning against the counter, opposite him. He stared into the dark drink, refusing to meet my gaze. I watched the muscles in his jaw work, chewing on words he was too afraid to say. “Why are you really here?”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he mumbled, shaking his head in denial.

“Try me,” I challenged.

He sucked in a deep breath, expelling it quickly before speaking. “This- this place isn’t real. None of it is.” His face scrunched, waiting for my explosive reaction.

“I know,” I told him calmly, pushing off the counter to stand upright.

“Y-you know?” he stuttered in surprise. “Whaddaya mean you know?” he asked, arms waving about as he raised the volume of his voice.

I peevishly crossed my arms over my chest, not liking his tone. “I’m not an idiot,” I snapped. “And I’m a little upset you think so.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re sitting here playing house. What the hell was I supposed to think?” He trembled as he spoke, more upset than I had ever seen him. Based on his reaction, something was very wrong.

I took a deep breath to calm myself before continuing our argument. Rory was in the other room and I didn’t want her to hear yelling. “I couldn’t find a way out,” I said through gritted teeth, “so I improvised. Did what I had to.”

“Marrying my brother?” he snorted, eyes rolling so hard I wanted to slap him.

“Don’t give me that ‘holier than thou’ crap, Sam!” I hissed. “We all want an apple pie life! So, what if it happened to be Dean? I didn’t ask for this. But this place gave me a chance and I took it. So sue me!” I was angry now, chest heaving as I threatened him across the countertop.

“A dream! It’s a dream!” he yelled back, slapping the table between us.

“No, it’s not, cause I can’t control it,” I retorted smugly, nose in the air. Let him feel bad for yelling at me now.

“You can’t?” His face contorted in confusion, not sure what to think. I could see the calculations happening behind his eyes.

Our screaming match done, I reached for his hand in a peace offering. I wanted to ask him how’d he gotten here, but I stopped. Recoiling in pain, I dropped his hand, pulling mine to my chest.

“You’re burning up!” I cried, massaging the burning sensation out of my hand. It felt like touching a hot oven but had left no marks on my skin.

Sam face was dead serious now, staring at me. “No, you’re freezing. How long have you been here?”

I shook my head, trying to remember. All these memories tended to run together after so long. “Ah, five years or so, I think. Why?”

Somber turned to dread as I answered him. “You’ve been gone three days.” His voice trembled as he continued. “Avery, I think you’re dying.”

I scoffed, not wanting to believe him. “Not possible. I feel perfectly fine.” I searched his eyes for a hint that he was joking, trying to pull one over on me. I knew him too well to imagine anything into his expression. This was no laughing matter to him.

“Yeah, cause this place is meant to keep you complacent until you’re a dried-out husk in a Djinn’s liar.”

“How do you know it’s a Djinn?” I questioned.

A hint of a smile pulled at his mouth. “Lucky guess. Seems a lot like Dean’s apple pie life,” he said, glancing around at the kitchen.

He was right. When we had rescued Dean, his dream sounded like the life I was living now. Everything we had ever wanted, served up unconditionally on a silver platter; ripe for the taking. It didn’t surprise me we had both fallen for the Djinn’s trick.

Feeling the need to sit down, I shakily grabbed the chair next to Sam. Careful not to touch him, I could feel the heat radiating off him. We sat thinking, the house eerily silent. I didn’t know what he’d used to get here, but it seemed like we were both stuck for the foreseeable future.

Sam broke the silence first, his focus more concentrated than mine. “Do you know where your body is?”

I gave a sardonic chuckle. “If I knew that, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

He made an unamused noise. “You’re just so cold. I wonder if you’re outdoors,” he speculated out loud.

“One night outside in Colorado and I’d have frozen to death.” I rubbed my arm, fighting off the bone-chilling feeling of fear. Thinking of your own impending doom tended to do that.

He agreed with me, chin propped up in his hand. “Outdoors, but not outside,” he mused. “What about-”

“A cave,” we said simultaneously. My recurring nightmare came rushing back in my mind’s eye. Lying on the cool, dank ground with water steadily dripping in the background, shivering uncontrollably.

“Lucky guess,” I said when he turned to question me. All this time I’d had a window into the real world, and I hadn’t seen it. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to. Sam glanced at the watch on wrist, then at me.

I knew what he was trying to say. “It’s time for you to go.”

He cleared his throat, nodding. He pulled me into a desperate hug, not touching my skin. “We’re gonna find you. Dean’s already out there looking,” he promised. “Hold on a little longer,” he pleaded, pressing a kiss to my forehead. It left a small burning sensation on my scalp.

I pasted on a brave face. “You look scared,” I teased, pulling on his hair.

“Terrified,” he admitted. I smacked him playfully, which earned me a smile. I couldn’t have him acting like he’d never see me again.

“Can we keep this between us?” I asked, stopping him before he opened the front door. He never answered, giving me a soft look over his shoulder as he walked out.

The click of the door locking in place reverberated around me. When I had the courage to turn around, a different house greeted me. It was still my childhood home, but the flair my dream had added was gone. The walls were bare, all furniture gone. My footsteps echoed across the laminate floors as I trudged to the kitchen, the only person left inside.

I needed to use the phone; to make one last call. Listening to the line ring, I stared at two pictures that had appeared on the counter. The first held my family, smiling at a joke we had since forgotten.

The second was Sam, Dean, and I, sprawled across Bobby’s couch after a hunt.

“I love you,” I whispered, tracing the frame as the seconds ticked by.

The person on the other end of the line picked up, but I wasn’t there to hear it.

My vision shook so violently, I thought I might be caught in an earthquake. But as I clawed at the ground, I realized I was shivering. I couldn’t feel most of my body, making it hard to get up from my prone position. Not to mention, my brain felt like it had liquified into putty.

“W-w-work, d-damnit,” I growled, flexing my fingers repeatedly. I had to move if I was going to stand a chance against the Djinn, which seemed unlikely given my state.

“Woah, hey! Take it easy,” someone called ahead of me, dark form running at me.

I had to squint in the dim light to make out who it was. “Dean,” I sighed, never so happy to see him in my life. He seemed equally relieved, crouching beside me. “N-next t-t-time I’m saving y-you, okay?” I chattered, letting him help me sit upright.

“Whatever you say, short stuff,” he chuckled, sitting next to me in the dampness.

I started to rub my blue fingers together until I noticed Dean removing his clothing. “W-what the h-hell a-are you d-doing?” I asked, stunned. His bare chest had the classic tattoo and numerous scars I had missed.

“You’ve got hypothermia,” he said, working my jacket off without hurting my frozen joints. “Sam’s at least an hour away; and last time I checked, you wanted to keep all ten fingers and toes.” He left my bra on, thinking it funny to pretend like he was undoing it. I smacked him best as I could, sending needles up the length of my arm. I gritted my teeth against the pain as he lightly apologized, resisting the urge to hit him again. When he was done, he moved behind me so I was braced between his legs.

I wanted to back talk, insist there was another way. But the heat radiating from him drew me in like a firefly to a bug zapper. I snuggled against his chest, hearing him inhale sharply when my icy fingers snaked around his midsection. Pulling his jacket around our shoulders, we sat huddled together in the gloomy cave.

It was excruciating, feeling myself defrost against the furnace of his skin, but I welcomed it. The pain spoke of the life I had left within me, refusing to give up; while the warmth signified Dean was in fact real. My mind was still playing tricks on me, remnants of the poison, but this was irrefutable evidence. It felt like the only thing grounding me to reality.

The silence should have been deafening for as long as we sat there, yet we seemed to be basking in each other’s company. He rubbed my back in soothing circles, threatening to lull me to sleep. “What did you see?” he asked quietly after a while, curiosity getting the better of him.

My mind exhausted, I let the words roll off my tongue without thinking. “A dream that felt like a memory. Where instead of all this, I had you. And life was beautifully simple, and we were happy.” I didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed, instead snuggling my head into the crook of his neck. A faint smile graced my lips as the last hazy image from the dream left my mind. Who needed a fantasy when I had the real thing right in front of me? He didn’t respond, his hand still moving in the rhythmic motion. “What about you?” I slurred, my eyelids becoming heavy.

He wrapped his arms around me to draw me to his chest as my eyes closed. “That sounds about right,” he whispered in my ear, careful not to wake me.


End file.
